


Of Promises Made

by gameofthorins



Category: The Hobbit, Tolkien - Fandom
Genre: Gen, M/M, Other, also there's some BOFA aftermath, and the lives of the dwarves after the quest, just brotherly love with Fili and Kili, then some sweet and subtle Ori/Kili
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-27
Updated: 2013-02-27
Packaged: 2017-12-03 18:13:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/701182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gameofthorins/pseuds/gameofthorins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kili doesn't ask for much and even if he asked for a lot people probably wouldn't deny him anything. Ori and Fili both make promises...and keep them. </p>
<p>Also, this story tells of the lives of the members of the Company long after the Battle of the Five Armies and the last quest of Balin Son of Fundin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Promises Made

They had just managed to reach the bottom of the great peak the eagles had left them on and everyone was exhausted. Thorin’s wounds had not yet fully healed, despite both Gandalf’s and Oin’s ministrations. At Gandalf’s request they made camp in a small cave at the base of the great rock that kept them well hid from enemy eyes and provided some shelter from the elements. After a light dinner and some conversation most of the dwarves were ready to tuck in for the night. Kili, though, still had enough energy in him to annoy his brother and try to hold some conversations with anyone who was still awake. He only piped down when Thorin told him to have some courtesy and let the others rest. Huddling next to Fili, who was leaning against the cave wall with a blanket around his shoulders, Kili suddenly grew serious and stared at his brother a while before he quietly posed his last question for the night.  
“Fili, could you do something for me?”   
“Anything, brother.”  
“I know Thorin is like a father to both us and if there’s anyone in the world worthy of our admiration it’s him. But sometimes I feel like you want to be him and that when we reclaim Erebor you’re going to change. I can already feel you changing and I just…I don’t want to lose the Fili I know. Thorin is a great dwarf but he’s made of something harder and darker than you. I just don’t want you to be anyone but you, could you do that for me? Oh! And when you’re king you have to make me Captain of the Guard, alright?”  
“Captain of the Guard? I was thinking of giving you a much better position, and one that puts you closer to me.”  
“And what position is that?”  
“Why, my personal servant.” That elicited a curse and a punch from Kili but he only meant it in jest.   
“I’m serious, Fili. Please do this for me?”  
“Fine, I won’t change and you can be my Captain of the Guard.”  
“Promise?”  
Suddenly, the voice of Dwalin cut in with “Oi, you two! Go to sleep.”   
Resting his head on Fili’s lap and wrapping himself in his thin blanket, Kili still wasn’t satisfied and whispered “Fili, do you promise?”  
“Go to sleep, Kili.”  
“Fili, promise.”  
“Sleep.”  
“Filiiiii, promise!” This time his voice was whinier and Fili had to suppress a grin because he knew this was the voice Kili used when he was trying to be cute and he could not resist that voice for long.  
“Sleep.”  
“Filiiiii.”  
“I swear to Mahal I will smother you.”  
“Filiiiiiii!”  
Fili clapped one large hand over Kili’s mouth while he used the other to tickle Kili’s neck. Kili writhed and giggled, though the giggles were muffled by Fili’s hand, which remained firmly clamped over Kili’s mouth. Breathless and grinning, Kili managed to extricate himself from his brother’s grip and face him again.   
“Fili, please. Just promise me that.”  
Looking at his little brother with a mixture of exasperation and affection he finally caved in. “I promise I won’t change, Kili. Not for anyone. I’ll always be your Fili.”  
“Thank you.” Kili reached out and hugged his brother before stretching out and resting his head on Fili’s lap once again.   
Fili watched his brother drift off and thought that if he ever lost him he wouldn’t know what to do. Fili didn’t think he’d be able to go on without the one person that gave him any reason to try harder, to stay strong. Kili effortlessly brightened up his day with his vibrancy and easy manner, and even when he was being annoying Fili wouldn’t have him any other way. For though Kili thought of himself as a metal, lasting and strong, Fili saw him as something even stronger and far more powerful: the sun. 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

They had reached the edge of the river and were resting in the sun after having bathed and eaten. From where they were they could see the Eagle’s Peak in its full glory and that it was in fact shaped curiously like a bear with its neck outstretched to the sky. Ori saw this as a great time to start documenting the events of the past few days and to draw the peak. Walking to a spot away from the others and from the river he began to draw, starting with what looked like head of the bear. His sketch was nearly done when he noticed someone leaning over his shoulder and he nearly jumped in surprise. It was none other than Kili, the younger of the two heirs of Thorin. “Hullo, Ori! I just came to check on you and to see what you were up to.”   
“Oh, well that was thoughtful of you but I’m almost done here anyway. I was just drawing the peak for future reference about the quest.”  
“Ah, I see. So is that all there is in that book of yours? Just drawings and descriptions of the journey so far?”  
“Well, no, not at all. I have my own thoughts here and there and I even try writing poetry, although I doubt that I’m any good.”  
“Poetry, eh? Well, I happen to love poems, though I’m not good at writing them or telling the good ones from the bad. Say, do you think you could perhaps write one for me? It doesn’t have to be your best or anything, I don’t want to pressure you. I’d just like to see what poem you could write with me in mind.”  
“Well, do you want a specific topic or..?”  
“Oh no! Just surprise me. I’ll read it and keep it, even if it’s about Radagast’s rabbits. I’m sure I’ll love it. It’ll be written by you, so what’s not to love?” Ori felt himself blush, although he turned so Kili wouldn’t see.   
“Well, alright then, I’ll come up with something. But don’t go asking for it before it’s ready. I’ll give it to you when I’m done.”   
“Fair enough. Thank you, Ori.” And with a wink and a grin, Kili traipsed back to others, leaving Ori with a smile on his face and a light in his heart. 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The aftermath of the Battle of the Armies left everyone in the blackest of moods and all around there was grief and mourning for loved ones lost. Though they had won, the cost had been high and Thorin and his heirs had fallen, to the sorrow of all who knew and loved them. Their funeral was attended by men, elves and dwarves alike and the procession down into the heart of the mountain was led by the members of the company, Gandalf, and the Elvenking Thranduil. When they finally reached the crypt and laid down the bodies of the three fallen princes, the company members lined the walls and made ready to give their final gifts and farewells. The first to approach Thorin’s body was Balin, who was so overcome with emotion that all he could manage to say was “Goodbye, laddie.” When it looked like Balin might breakdown Dwalin stepped up and placed his hand on his brother’s shoulder, standing there like a pillar to support his brother, who now seemed even smaller than ever, crumbling under the weight of his loss. Through his tears Dwalin managed to say “Goodbye, old friend. We’re finally home, and it’s because you never gave up, you never once turned from the path you chose, hard as it was. Thank you…for everything… my king.” With that, he led his brother away by the shoulder and the other dwarves came in their turn, giving short messages and laying down trinkets and the like before bowing and walking away. When it was Ori’s turn he still wasn’t sure what to say but he knew what he wanted to give to each of the fallen. By Thorin he laid a page from his journal with a large drawing of the King Under the Mountain and his nephews, glorious in their armor as they entered the battle. By Fili he laid his slingshot, for Fili had been a good friend and had tried to protect him almost as much as he did his own brother. He went to Kili last and suddenly he found that his throat constricted and his eyes blurred, for he had had the greatest affection for Kili and he was the hardest to say goodbye to. Holding back tears he approached Kili and by his side he laid three pages from his journal, filled with the lines of poetry he had promised him all those weeks ago. “Hullo, Kili. Here is the poem you asked of me when you found me drawing the eagle’s peak. It’s the longest poem I’ve ever written; I also think it’s the best. I only finished it last night though I’d already written most of it by the time we went to battle. There was one time when Fili and I were talking and he told me how you wanted to be like iron but felt more like sunshine and I think he was right. You had the wonderful and rare power to bring people hope and joy and it is a tragedy that you and your brother should die so young, when you had so much to give to our people and to Erebor. I wish I could tell you everything that I should have told you when you still lived but I hope that this poem shows you the truth of my heart. I will miss you both more than I can say and I hope that we may meet again someday. Farewell!” 

Last came Thranduil, who lay Orcrist upon Thorin’s chest and bowed before the fallen king, his normally unreadable features arranged in expression that clearly showed regret and sorrow that he felt. He knew that Thorin had been great and that the rage and pride of his last few days were nothing in comparison to the incredible bravery, endurance, and strength of will that had brought him this far and he deserved the utmost respect.

The world was sad on that day and the day after. Yet somehow they recovered and Bilbo gave his share of the treasure to the newly crowned King Bard to help repair Laketown and renovate Dale. The dwarves of the company headed the restorations around Erebor as dwarves from the Iron Hills came in droves to help repair the old kingdom. Messengers were sent out in the dozens to the different dwarf settlements, spreading the word that Erebor has been retaken and it was now safe to return. Farmers were sent for, for if they were to maintain a large population they would need to till the land again and grow crops for the people. Over the next few months the dwarves of the company were kept extraordinarily busy and even young Ori was given documentation jobs of great importance for King Dain. Dwalin was now the Commander of the Royal Guard and was taking very well to his new position. Overall, everyone was doing quite well. Sometimes in the night Ori would think of Thorin, Fili and Kili and wonder what things would be like if they were still alive. He was sure that Fili would be up to his eyes in politics while Kili would head the guard and help in the renovations and reestablishment of households. Sometimes he wished he had given Kili that poem earlier, and in those wee hours his regret threatened to overwhelm him and he would go over the lines in his head, wondering if he should have written more. 

Life went on for everyone, though, and the last members of the Line of Durin were immortalized in songs, tapestries and sculptures depicting their valor. It made Ori glad to see that they were never to be forgotten, although none would really remember them the way he and the other Companions would. No one knew them as friends, or knew that Kili loved dancing and had a fear of bees, or that Fili loved to sing and liked the rain, or that Thorin’s last words had been addressed to a little hobbit of the Shire. He cherished the thought that he was one of the few who were given the privilege of knowing them in that way. 

Eventually, Ori grew older and as he did, his beard grew longer and he became the Master of the great library of Erebor, a project he had started single-handedly and was very proud of. He became a master of lore and Dwarvish literature and was constantly documenting and researching as well as writing songs and poems. He became the finest teacher in the kingdom and was the personal tutor of the king’s children. Despite his busy schedule he always found time to visit his brothers and other members of the company to see how they were doing. All were in positions of considerable influence and some had even taken wives like Dwalin, who was now the proud father of three sons: Thorin, Fili and Kili. Bofur too had settled down and he now had a son and two daughters, who were every bit as vivacious as their father. Dis had finally returned to Erebor and was greatly respected by all; she was still a member of the royal family and tried to help her fellow dwarf women in what ways that she could. Balin was the king’s most trusted advisor, Gloin was the head of the royal treasury, Oin became the Master Healer, Bifur returned to toy making and now had a number of apprentices in his workshop, Bombur had become quite rich and huge and now needed six young dwarves to carry him around, while Dori joined the royal court and Nori took up honest work in Dale. Though Erebor would never be fully returned to its former glory, it was thriving and beautiful and most importantly it was their home once more. 

One day while he was working in the archives, Ori was approached by Balin who claimed to have an exciting proposition for him.   
“Well, Mr. Balin, what’s got you all excited now?”  
“Moria. It’s been gnawing at me mind, lad. It’s been years since the last report of any orc raids in the lands and the orc population has never been lower. The mountains are safer than they’ve been in almost an age and the goblins don’t dare show their faces with Beorn and his kin patrolling the mountain range. I think it’s time we finish what King Thror started. I say we take back Moria and restore the realm of our ancestors, shine light back into those darkened halls. I know the dangers but I believe that with a company of hardy, willing young dwarves and no small amount of courage we can do it. So far Oin’s the only member of the old company who’s sworn to follow me into the Mines. I’ve asked all the others but they’ve declined, though I know they all have their own cares now and I do not resent them for it. Some have even told me that quest is a folly but they’ve promised to give us the necessary provisions and we go with their blessings. I know you have plenty of work to do and what I am asking for is no small favor, but just think…this is the chance of a lifetime. Are you with me laddie?”

Ori was silent for a long time, turning over all the facts in his mind and wondering if he ought to follow Balin on this journey that from his point of view did seem to be verging on madness. But then the memories of their old quest crept into his mind and the excitement and thrill of another adventure filled his heart, the thought of the honor of being part of the band that renews Moria starting a fire inside of him. Someone would need to document the expedition and the state of Mines and who better to serve as the Scribe than he? Looking up at the snowy bearded dwarf before him, Ori answered “I am with you.”

**Author's Note:**

> I decided what happened to each of the dwarves based on the the film's Visual Companion and what each dwarf's original profession was. As it goes along it becomes pretty focused on Ori. I tried to make the funeral of Thorin , Fili and Kili the way I imagined it happened. I'm pretty sure Balin loved Thorin as much as any friend could. If any of you guys think you can write Ori's poem you are welcome to try.


End file.
